


Starring Role

by spockandawe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Daddy Kink, Epic Fail, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Femdom, First Dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:46:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2422499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockandawe/pseuds/spockandawe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your first mistake is when you spot the shirt with 'daddy' written on it in sparkling pink letters... and somehow fail to leave. You're thinking about it, you're definitely thinking about it, it would be so easy to just toss a twenty on the table and make a run for it-- But then he spots you and waves. Trapped. He tucks his hands into his pockets, ah yes, <em>accidentally </em>pulling his leather jacket wider open, just in case you managed to miss his shirt before. As he weaves his way through the tables, he gives you a nod that seems far too studied to <em>actually</em> be casual, and looks you up and down in a way that makes you grimace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starring Role

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by pictures by [punpunichu](http://punpunichu.tumblr.com/post/99446720164/so-i-saw-this-post-and-just-had-to-draw-cro) and [twinksandboobs](http://twinksandboobs.tumblr.com/post/99449747188/i-named-this-file-grosser-thank-you-tumblr), and [ lots of people](http://twinksandboobs.tumblr.com/post/99436338413/i-thought-cronus-always-wore-that-daddy-shirt) about Cronus wearing, well, the shirt he's wearing in this story. It cracked me up, and right as I was just getting ready to turn in for the night, this story T-boned me from out of nowhere and I just HAD to write it.
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://spockandawe.tumblr.com/post/99537256771/starring-role-spockandawe-homestuck-archive-of-our)

Your first mistake is when you spot the shirt with 'daddy' written on it in sparkling pink letters... and somehow fail to leave. You're thinking about it, you're definitely thinking about it, it would be so easy to just toss a twenty on the table and make a run for it-- But then he spots you and waves. Trapped. He tucks his hands into his pockets, ah yes, _accidentally_ pulling his leather jacket wider open, just in case you managed to miss his shirt before. As he weaves his way through the tables, he gives you a nod that seems far too studied to _actually_ be casual, and looks you up and down in a way that makes you grimace.

You stand to meet him when he reaches you, and have the pleasure of realizing that with your heels on, you're the slightest bit taller than he is. He sticks out a hand. "Porrim?"

You force a smile and take it. "Cronus?"

By the time you sit down, you've nearly rationalized it in your head. He... certainly did not come across that well over the internet, but there are differences between talking and typing and you do your best to give people the benefit of the doubt. And he _is_ certainly handsome enough to make up for lackluster verbal skills. Hell, maybe if you manage the evening right, he'll hardly have a chance to use his mouth for talking at all. You suppose that it displays a remarkable self-confidence to go out in _public_ with that shirt, never mind on a first date. And self-confidence is always attractive. Also, well-- you did agree to this in hopes of finding someone compatible with you who shares that particular kink. It was the basis of your initial conversations. If you can steer him, perhaps you can persuade 'Daddy' to express his love of that kink in less... _obtrusive_ ways. Or maybe his little girl will try to do the laundry, just like a grown-up, and that shirt will have a _tragic_ accident.

So you put all your effort into focusing on that pretty face and body, and try to ignore that you're being seen in public with a man wearing a shirt that says 'daddy.' In sparkling pink. You'll enjoy the evening, you'll enjoy the sex, and even if this guy isn't worth ever talking to again,  and you're sure you can just have fun without any need for regrets.

That attitude lasts about thirty seconds.

The bar is crowded. _Very_ crowded. You wouldn't feel comfortable talking about the vanilla details of your sex life like this, when there are people around you on every side, and Cronus keeps trying to turn the conversation back to daddy kink. At full volume. The first time you address him as 'Cronus,' he tells you to just call him Daddy, and winks and rests a heavy hand on your arm. You let that stand for about five seconds before you twist away on the pretense of grabbing something from your purse, and make a note to stop addressing him as anything at all. He's actually almost tolerable when you can hold him to normal topics of conversation, but he _won't stop_ turning everything back to 'well, _Daddy_ prefers--' and ' _Daddy_ thinks little girls should--' He has a blog or _something_ that he won't stop hinting at, but every time you express polite interest he turns all coy and noncommittal and yeah babe, maybe he'll tell you about it when you're _ready._

You're almost ready to give up and just leave. You really are. But hnnn, he's just so _pretty_ when you can get him to shut up, and maybe you're shallow, but you'd _really_ like to see what he looks like naked. And hey, no matter how embarrassing it is to be seen with him, you can safely say you're going to have one hell of a story to tell your friends later.

Of course, just as soon as you've resolved to see it through, he makes you regret it. "Whatcha thinking about, pretty thing? 'Cause I know what I've got on my mind." You refuse to give him the satisfaction of asking, but he immediately leans too close and whispers in your ear, "I'm thinking about your tight little cunny."

Okay.

_Okay._

You finish your drink without coming up for air. And then you tug at your neckline little lower, and while he's still gawping, you steal his drink and finish it too. Sweet, sweet alcohol. He's still indignantly protesting when you drop his empty glass on the table. You grab him by the front of his shirt (oh nooo you hope you don't stretch out the design at all) and pull him in. You kiss him once, glancing off the edge of his mouth, cheek, jawbone. Then you bite his neck hard and grin at the way he jumps. "Your place?"

He agrees-- you're already standing, collecting your things, and heading for the door, but it's cute that he thinks his opinion matters. As you pause outside and wait for him to take the lead, you grimace to see him adjusting his jacket again, pulling it open to make sure the 'daddy' is visible. Yes, we wouldn't want to deprive the public of _this_ experience. Let all who pass marvel at this specimen of dom-hood.

The walk to his apartment isn't long, but he still takes the opportunity to get handsy. You let him. At this point, you're pretty sure that the only way you'll have a good time subbing for Daddy is if you get into the right headspace as quickly as possible. You do your best to keep in mind that it, it's _possible_ that he's phenomenal in the bedroom and just socially awkward. You'll just keep telling yourself that. But no, you need to trust Daddy, or this just isn't going to work out. You look at him with adoration all over your face (fake it 'til you make it) while his hand drifts up from your waist to your bust. When a cool breeze hits you, you let yourself shiver and press closer to his side. He grins like that was his plan all along, but yeah, you're pretty sure you're going to be carrying most of the weight in this scene.

As soon as the two of you are in his elevator, he pins you to the wall. His mouth is on your neck and his hands are alllll over your ass. You play it coy? You play it coy. You gasp, and pretend-struggle. "Daddy, what are you doing?!"

He pulls back and grins, and you can feel the dynamic almost starting to fall into place. "Just trying to make my favorite girl feel good, that's all."

Right. That's why this is all about _him_ getting _his_ hands all over-- Pull it in. Focus. You manage a pout and slide just far enough down the wall that you're looking up into his face. "But you _scared_ me."

"Nooo, baby, no. Just trust Daddy."

He slides a hand up your skirt, and you have to actually stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Has he never heard of lettings thing build? Tension? Delayed gratification? You almost hope someone else boards the elevator and he gets caught like this. Your turn your head away from him and chew on a finger. "It feels funny. I don't like it."

He's fumbling at the edge of your underwear. "Baby girl, _baby_ , just let me--"

The elevator bell rings for your floor. Oh thank god. He stays leaned up against you for an awkward moment too long before he puts an arm back around your waist and tugs you out into the hallway. He lets his hand drop right down to your ass as you walk to his door, just squeezing away like he hasn't got a care in the world. And as soon as he unlocks his door and ushers you inside? Wow, yes, what a surprise, he pins you to the wall again. So _imaginative._

He's leaving too-wet kisses on your neck, and you're just making your peace with having an awkward evening and laughing about it later, when he leans up to your ear and whispers, "And what's my little girl gonna do tonight to earn her cummies?"

 _Nope_.

You are nope-ing right the hell out of this scene. You grab him by the hips and turn so that he's the one trapped against the wall, with you leaning over him. You set your hands on either side of his head and say, "Look. This isn't working."

His hands go right back to your ass. And knead. _Classy._ "Aww, baby, baby girl, no--" He leans forward to kiss you, and you turn your head so his lips glance off your cheek. "Just let Daddy make you feel good--"

You shut your eyes and take a slow, deep breath. He's still trying to keep up a steady stream of what he must _think_ are endearments, all while he gropes clumsily for the hem of your skirt. It's a little frightening to realize that yes, he really is this unaware of how _inept_ he is. When you place a hand at the base of his throat-- just a little more firm than should be comfortable-- the words trail off into silence. He actually looks _hopeful_. Like this has been an experience that could be described as anything but a hideous failure. You think for only a moment, but, well. Why not get something enjoyable out of this evening after all?

You brush a stray piece of hair back from his face and murmur, "And are you going to be my good boy, then?"

He pauses for a second, then gives you a nervous grin. "Uh, I think you mean _Daddy--_ "

You squeeze his throat-- just a little. You know better than to get carried away this early. When he goes quiet again, you smile, warm and sweet. It's even genuine. The confusion written all over his face is the best thing you've seen all evening. "I think I know what I mean. I do hope you're not trying to tell me I'm wrong." Just a hint of nails on his throat, the slightest scrape, and then you gently cup his face with both hands and pull him in for a slow, careful kiss. "Good boys don't try to correct their Daddy."

"Whoa there. _Whoa_. What the actual fuck--"

You put a hand over his mouth, and oh, it feels nice to do that. "I told you, this isn't working. The way I see it now, you've got two options. One, I leave. You can spend the night alone and pass the time imagining what it might have been like if you'd _actually_ gotten me further than the front hallway. Or. We could spend the night... in company." You still have his mouth covered, but he nods eagerly. "Wonderful. I'll do that on the condition that we exchange roles."

You drop your hands to play with the hem of his shirt. Could you get away with putting a hole in it? Probably not, if you want to get laid. Cronus is trying to argue, and it's almost endearing when he thinks he's being articulate, but oh dear, he seems to be losing his train of thought every time your knuckles bump up against his stomach. How unfortunate. You wait patiently until he trails off with a muttered, "...don't see why, it's fuckin' _weird_."

Before you say a word, you run your hands up his sides, under his shirt. He shivers when your fingers dig into his waist. "I don't think the question is whether it's weird." Honestly, he was the one who wanted you to play the part of a little girl and call him Daddy, and he's worried about _weird?_ "What's important is whether or not you want someone to touch you tonight."

That gets to him. You can see it on his face, the way his eyes light up and he starts to say _yes_ before he pulls it back in. But her turns his head to the side, his cheeks going red, and says, "I don't want to be a little girl."

 _That_ makes you laugh. "Didn't you hear me before? You're my boy, my precious little boy, and I just want to take care of you." You press a little closer, your body up against his, and add, "Don't you want me to take care of you?"

His cheeks are positively scarlet now, and he won't meet your eyes. "So what, am I supposed to call you Mommy or something?"

"No." You take his chin, turn him to face you, and dip in for a gentle kiss. "You'll call me Daddy."

Oh, but he is _gorgeous_ when he's blushing like this. He's staring off over your shoulder with his lips pressed tight together, and he's red out to the tips of his ears. He hasn't said yes, but he _is_ carefully reaching up to settle his hands on your hips. You kiss him once more, encouraging. You mold yourself against him gradually, until he's leaning forward to follow your lips every time you pull away. You wait until you feel his hands starting to drift down towards your ass again, and push off the wall. "Well, how about you take us somewhere more comfortable?"

It takes him a moment to catch up. He blinks twice before you think he even parses the question. "Um. Yeah, uh, sure. Right."

He tries to head straight for the bedroom, of course. You're still feeling contrary enough that when you pass his living room and see what looks like the _softest,_ most plush couch, you place a firm hand on the back of his neck and steer him in a new direction. He does try to shrug off your hand. He should know better, but, well. You haven't laid down any orders yet, and you _do_ know how to be gentle. You leave your hand where it is, tightening your grip the smallest bit when he tries to step away. You wait until he looks at you, then you raise an eyebrow, and laugh as he flushes again and drops his eyes.

You drop your purse and lay down on the couch, and oh, _yes_ , it is just as wonderfully comfortable as it looked from the hall. You stretch out, and it's long enough that your toes barely touch the far arm. Perhaps you look a little silly rolling around on someone else's couch like this, but after everything you've put up with so far tonight, you deserve something nice. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him make an abortive half-step towards the far end of the couch, but he doesn't actually try to sit down. _Good_. At least he has some idea of how he should be acting right now.

After leaving it long enough that Cronus is fidgeting and shifting from foot to foot, you sit up and give him an appraising look. He straightens up as soon as you turn your attention on him, but his hands hover awkwardly over the fly of his jeans. "So, uh, I guess I'll get naked now--"

You don't make a move to stop him. You let your expression speak for itself. He pauses with his pants half unzipped, and you don't move or say a word until he finally zips and re-buttons them. Finally, you sigh. "Is that how we ask for things?"

"...No." You let the silence stretch out again, until he adds, "May I please take off my clothes?"

"May I please take off my clothes...?"

He doesn't want to say it. Oh, watching him struggle with this nearly makes up for the rest of the evening. This is _really_ too much fun. It's barely audible when he mutters, "May I please take off my clothes, Daddy?"

You let yourself grin, slow and pleased. "So clever! You're learning quickly, what a good boy. Come here--" You tug him down onto the couch next to you, and start inching up the hem of his shirt. "That's a _very_ good first step. I think you deserve to take this off. And since you figured it out so quickly..." You lean in and whisper, letting your lips brush against his ear. "I'll take this off for you."

He jumps and shivers, and you think you might reasonably say that you're finally starting to _enjoy_ yourself. You still take your time, even though you're sure he'd be happier if you went faster. No, right now you are far too busy feeling up his entire torso a time or three. You're actually rather irritated that such a complete ass has such a flawless face and body. But you're getting to enjoy that body now without even having to listen to him talk, and this is absolutely a delight.

His nipples are sensitive, and that is a piece of information you tuck away for future consideration. Just brushing your fingers over them is enough to make him twitch and shudder away, and oh yes, you want more of that _right now_. You pull his shirt up over his head-- and leave it there. Then while he's trying to thrash his way out of his own clothing, you bend down and put your mouth to good use. He yelps when your lips close over a nipple, but when you run your tongue stud over his skin, the noise he makes is absolutely a _moan._

Once Cronus finally fights his way free of his shirt, he clearly has no idea what to do with himself, and he just... freezes. One hand inches its way towards his zipper again, but you gently slap it away, he subsides, and sits with his hands clenching and unclenching in the couch cushions. You let your own hand settle on his upper thigh, your fingers drawing soft circles in the denim. By the time you break away he's breathing hard, and well. You can certainly _see_ why he's so eager to take his pants off. He's grinning like he thinks he's just won the lottery, so you just stare flatly at him until the smile breaks and falters.

"Didn't I tell you that _I'd_ take your shirt off?"

"Yeah, but-- But you were--" It takes him a few seconds longer than it _should_ , but finally his head droops and he says, "Sorry." You wait. "Sorry, Daddy."

You immediately soften and lean against the back of the couch, pulling his head down to rest on your shoulder. " _Much_ better. You're learning so well, just look at you. I'm not angry, but I will need you to listen when I tell you to do things. Can you do that? You're such a clever boy, I'm sure there won't be any more problems."

He's doing his best to play it cool, but oh dear, his face is _such_ an open book. Does praise really get to him that easily? He gives a forced-careless laugh, but then his voice cracks when he tries to speak, and it is unfairly adorable. "Y-- Yeah, I can do that for you." Barely a pause. "Daddy."

You smile for him, then gently tug his hair until he tilts his head back far enough for you to kiss him. You pinch his nipples once, just to watch him jump, and laugh against his mouth. He's blushing hard, and it's absolutely beautiful. He shudders from head to toe when your hands drop low enough to toy with the waistband of his jeans. You're vaguely wondering how long you can hold him at that point before he finally cracks, but you still haven't even finished considering the idea when he pulls away, fumbling for his zipper.

"Yeah, _yeah_ , Daddy-- Let me, I can get that, please--"

" _Cronus._ "

He freezes, his hands still on the zipper.

"It sounds like you're trying to tell me what to do."

"No, no, I swear-- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Daddy, _please_ can I--"

You take his wrists and firmly place his hands back on the couch. Then you zip his pants, letting your fingers linger over his erection and deliberately ignoring the way your touch makes him shiver. Hmm. Actually. It took you maybe a minute after meeting him to realize he had almost no experience with daddy kink in real life. But you're starting to wonder if he's ever had _any_ sex at all. God, you're not sure you've ever actually had sex with a virgin before. That's rather intimidating to think about, so, well. The clear answer is not to think about it. What you've been doing _certainly_ seems to be working well enough.

He's still mumbling apologies, stumbling over pleas for you to just _touch him_. You cut him off with another kiss. Usually, you'd be expecting the scene to only just be getting into gear at this point, but if it really is his first time, you suppose it wouldn't be nice to drag things out for _too_ long. "You want to take off your pants?"

He nods with his eyes squeezed tight shut. " _Please_ , Daddy."

"Why don't you tell me what you'll do for _me_ if I let you do that?" And oh, would you look at that, you managed to ask that question without once referring to 'cummies.' It's a shame he's probably too distracted to notice the contrast.

"I-- I would," he stammers, "Make you. Feel good? I'd, uh, touch you down, you know--"

Perhaps you'd better cut him off before he can start talking about your 'cunny' again. You interrupt with a kiss and cup his cheek in one hand. "Shh. _Shh._ It's okay if you don't know exactly. We can improvise. But if I make you feel good, are you going to return the favor?"

"Yeah. _Yeah._ Daddy, can I please--"

You hold up a hand until he trails off into a confused silence. His eyes flutter closed when you smooth your fingers along his zipper. "Do you think I could make you come in your pants?"

His eyes snap up to your face, and he opens his mouth for what is almost _definitely_ a protest-- And then he shuts it again. After a moment he says, "You.  _Could_. Please, Daddy, please don't, please touch me--"

" _Hush_." You put a hand over his mouth until he stops trying to talk past it. "You gave me an honest answer. Do you know what honest boys get?" His face is blank, and you allow yourself a grin. "Honest boys get _rewarded._ "

You tug him forward until he's on the couch on hands and knees, and climb up behind him. You undo his zipper, shove his pants halfway down his hips, and jerk him off hard and fast. His arms buckle after the first few strokes, and it's a shame the noises he's making are getting muffled in the cushions, but this does make for _such_ a pretty picture.

You aren't expecting him to last long at all. It's only been a minute or two, and you _think_ you're reading the signals right-- You drape yourself over his back and wrap your free arm around him, spreading a possessive hand over his chest. You whisper, " _Cronus_. Come for me."

He does. He shakes himself apart under you, gasping into the cushions, his face buried in one arm and his other hand grabbing frantically for your leg, like he's trying to hold you in place.

You stay where you are, taking as much of your own weight as you can, until he pushes himself upright and starts trying to turn over. You get a glimpse of where he came all over the cushions-- eurgh, not your problem, thank goodness-- and when he finally manages to sit up and slumps against the back of the couch, he just looks so completely dazed and lost. Yeah, you think you just bagged your first virgin.

Well. Overwhelmed first-timer or not, you're not finishing the evening without an orgasm. From where you are, you can juuuust reach your purse, and there it is, your emergency bullet vibrator. Cronus is watching you, but you're not sure he's really processing. He doesn't really react until you reach up under your skirt to shimmy out of your underwear. Then he jerks upright.

" _Oh--_ I, uh. Daddy, did you want me to...?"

You smile and pull him in for a quick kiss, then smooth back the stray bits of hair that have fallen into his face. " _Very_ good! Such a clever boy, I thought you might have forgotten. Yes, that would be wonderful."

He's blushing hard again, and he starts to lean in towards you, and pauses. "Um. What--"

"What should you do?" He nods, red all down his neck and shoulders. You pat his cheek. "I believe you offered to touch me? If I could have you on the floor, I think that would be easiest.

He kneels between your legs, nervously pushing your skirt out of the way, spreading your legs open wider. He freezes there, with his hands on your thighs, and looks helplessly up at you.

You _could_ order him to actually admit he has no idea what he's doing... But that would be unkind at this point. Instead you just take his hand, fold two fingers down, and guide him into you yourself. He picks up the rhythm fast enough, and ahhhh, but it feels _good_ to have someone touching you-- He's so pretty to watch, and you haven't given yourself any attention so far this evening, and _nnn_ , this is nice-- It won't be enough to finish, you don't think, so you flick on the vibrator, and give Cronus a reassuring smile. "Keep doing what you're doing." _Ahhhhh_ , that's it, his, his fingers and the vibrator both on you, and, and the _look_ he's giving you, _yes--_

You come hard. You give Cronus a clumsy pat on the head when he moves his hand away, because you're oversensitive right now, but still catching your breath and having trouble stringing together the right words. And by the time you've pulled yourself back together and tucked your vibrator back in your purse, Cronus is half-asleep, slumped forward against the couch. You're pretty sure that's the actual worst position to sleep in that you've _ever_ seen.

You don't especially want to move yourself, but there's a wet spot on the couch that you are _not_ dealing with, and it wouldn't be nice to use his bed while leaving him out here. You prod him with a foot until he jumps and slurs something about 'just resting his eyes.' You keep prodding until he stands up, and well, you guess that if _he_ managed it, that means you have to stand up too. He's just standing there like he doesn't know which way is up, and finally you slip an arm around his waist (and lean on him a bit), and guide him off to his bedroom.

When you tip him onto the sheets, he mumbles something that sounds rather like 'thank you, Daddy.'

In the morning, you wake up before he does, but he's out in the hallway waiting for you by the time you get done taking a quick shower. It's impressively awkward. You suppose you should be grateful that he hasn't put yesterday's shirt back on. You don't have any idea what to say, but you don't think that he does either, so at least you're on equal ground. Eventually, looking off into the kitchen like you find his apartment _extremely_ interesting, you say, "Thank you for having me over. That was a lovely night."

"Yeah, it was... fun."

You can't actually tell if that was a sincere or sarcastic fun, and the atmosphere is getting more stifling by the second. "I suppose-- That I should be heading home, then. Things to do."

Oh-- Yeah. Yeah, same. Things to do, I mean. Let me show you out?"

It's a straight hallway in a not-very-large-apartment. You let him show you out. As you pass by the living room, you remark, "Oh, you'll want to have those cushions cleaned."

He shrugs. "Ehh, I'll just flip 'em over."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "By which I meant, you _should_ have those cushions cleaned."

Cronus shuffles past you as he opens the door. "Uh, I'll take care of it then? If I remember, I guess?"

It takes a moment for you to decide yourself. And you're pretty sure you're making a mistake, but. Well. Why not, right? "By which I meant, you are _going_ to have those cushions cleaned. Text me when you have it done. I'll expect this to be taken care of in the next day or two."

You feel a bit silly as you head toward the elevator. This was a play date gone hilariously wrong that you managed to turn into something enjoyable. Nothing serious. Hell, you didn't even do a proper negotiation last night, or discuss a more permanent arrangement or anything. But when you're walking out the doors of his apartment building, you hear a text alert from your phone.

CA: yes, daddy

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://spockandawe.tumblr.com/post/99537256771/starring-role-spockandawe-homestuck-archive-of-our)
> 
> Now with a bonus [sequel picture!](http://spockandawe.tumblr.com/post/102254889311/so-im-slightly-missing-the-date-on-this-not-only)


End file.
